


Drunk-dial

by elzed



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-01
Updated: 2009-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25378426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elzed/pseuds/elzed
Summary: More BSG RPF from the vaults of time. 2009, this time.
Relationships: Jamie Bamber/Katee Sackhoff
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Drunk-dial

**Author's Note:**

> More BSG RPF from the vaults of time. 2009, this time.

Written for [](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/profile)[**oxoniensis**](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/) 's [Porn Battle VII](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/394717.html). Prompts: illicit, fingers.

It probably marks him out as an old fart, but Jamie’s always liked having an old fashioned double ring tone on his mobile. It reminds him of his childhood, of the chunky black phone in the study, next to the pile of letters and cards his mum devoted a morning a week to answering, ever diligent. 

His trip down memory lane is cut short by the sound of Katee’s voice on the other end of the line. She’s slurring slightly and he bets she’s pissed – she has an alarming tendency to drunk-dial, he discovered some time ago, and he never tried to wean her off it, even though it’s landed him in tricky situations a couple of times. He tells himself it’s fine because they’re not actually doing anything.

He knows he’s lying, but Katee talking dirty in his ear is beyond his powers of self-control.

“Hey, Bamber, did I wake you up?” she says. “I can never remember how many hours away you are.”

“I wish. The girls were up at six. I’m trying to learn my lines while they’re out of the house. I want to go back to bed but I can’t.”

She laughs.

“Why not?”

“I have to be on set this afternoon. Anyhow, speaking of time difference, it’s – what – two am at your end? What are you doing up?”

Katee huffs exaggeratedly down the line.

“Not everyone’s dull and married and a slave to their kids, Bamber. I’ve been having some fun.”

“You mean tequila shots?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, Katee, you know what tequila does to you,” he says, and without even trying his voice drops lower and his heartbeat picks up.

“Well, why do you think I’m on the phone to you?” she shoots back. “Besides, I thought you liked that.”

“Maybe I do,” he says, because he’s weak and it’s been too long since he’s heard her breathing down the phone. He furtively touches his hardening cock through his sweatpants and tries not to think of Kerry.

“Oh, really,” she says, with a hint of a smile in her voice, and he lets his fingers linger on his erection. He can see her in his mind’s eye, licking her lips suggestively, and that does it.

“Yes, really. Because you turn into a randy little bitch, Katee, and you know I’ve always loved that about you.”

He’s not lying. Christ, he loves his wife, he does, but Katee Sackhoff on the pull is something else, and he’s not uxorious enough to ignore the extreme attractiveness of his co-star. Maybe it’s just transference, but she’s so damn hot, and he’s wanted her for too long. And this – well, it’s not quite cheating, is it? And it’s a game they play so well together.

“Talking dirty to me, Bamber?” Her voice is already taking on that breathless quality that he knows means she’s got her hand down her pants. He tightens his grip on his cock, thumbing the head lightly.

“You know you like it, Sackhoff,” he growls. “And I can tell you’re touching yourself already, so don’t pretend.”

“Like you’re not.”

He laughs. “Maybe I am. Wouldn’t you like to be sure?”

“No bullshit, Jamie. I know exactly how your voice sounds when you’re getting yourself off. So, are you hard for me?”

Her breath hitches and he knows she’s slipped at least two fingers in her cunt, and his hand speeds up on his cock.

“Yes. God, yes. I wish you were here to put your mouth to better use than just breathing down the phone, woman.”

She moans, a dirty sound that gets him in the gut, makes him even harder.

“How fucking wet are you, Katee? “

“So wet, so wet for you, Jamie,” she exhales, her voice strained and high-pitched and urgent.

She’s panting now down the phone, gasping on every second breath, and he can just imagine her fingers sliding in and out, her thumb on her clit. He tries to match her breathing, to synchronise with her, because if they can’t do anything else, at least they can come together.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck!” she cries out, nearly deafening him in the process, and he thrusts hard into his fist and bites off a long groan as he spurts all over his fingers.

He listens to her breathing slow down with his heartbeat, and tries to ignore the guilt washing over him.

“Goodnight, Katee,” he whispers down the line.

Five years, and they’ve never touched off set, and he’s as much of a cheating bastard as if they had.

She might be the one who drunk-dials him, but he’s been sober every time.


End file.
